The Tributes (Sable)

Trapped in Fear

The Black Queen approached Sable with slow, deliberate steps, her pointed black shoes clicking against the polished tiles, her black cape trailing in her wake, and her ankle-length gown swishing over the floor in a swirling puddle of black lace and velvet ruffles.

Sable's subsequent reaction was purely involuntary; like her body had decided to move with absolutely no conscious instruction from her:

She immediately started backing away as the Queen neared, unable to stop herself even when she realized what she was doing.

If anything, the Queen only looked more amused.

The Black Queen never gave the command to stop her retreat. Rather, she simply followed her pace, stepping forward deliberately. Sable only felt more trapped with each backward step she took, but she couldn't, for the life of her, stop now that she'd started.

As she backed away, the Queen even made a waving-off gesture at one point. And Sable felt a presence behind her move away, noting, peripherally, from the corners of her eyes, that two guards had stepped out of her path on either side.

So her retreat was not going to be stopped; not by the guards at least. The Queen was perfectly content to let her have the illusion of being able to get away from her.

And, oh, Sable knew it was an illusion. She knew she was trapped. But she couldn't help trying to keep out of reach for as long as she could. She just knew that this woman was very, very dangerous: More dangerous than the villagers she'd lived with. More dangerous than the guards who'd come with dire threats and assessing leers to collect the tribute.

More dangerous than anyone she'd ever met in her life.

Sable stopped abruptly as she finally backed up against a wall, having more or less expected it to happen (the room, she'd known, was huge, not infinite), but she was still startled by it when it did. She pressed back when the Queen neared, closing the distance between them until they were but three inches or so apart. And the next moment, a closed fan came into view and the end of it was tucked under Sable's chin to lift her face.

Sable flinched at the movement and contact but didn't do anything to resist it, merely watching the woman who had her cornered and trapped against a wall. The Queen's face was lit up with wry amusement. And, as Sable could see that the Queen found her fear entertaining, she didn't even try to tone it back or pretend otherwise.

"Oh, do I scare you, child?" the Queen simpered, in mockingly tender tones, even her expression softening a little with pity to match it. But Sable could see her eyes laughing behind the unconvincing act. Besides, the Queen certainly wasn't trying very hard to mask that she was enjoying this.

Sable swallowed and bit her lips, trying hard to wet her throat and mouth which had gone utterly dry again.

"Y-Yes, Y-Your High-ness," she finally answered, stuttering with nerves, keeping her gaze locked on the Queen's face. Whatever the Queen wanted from her, Sable was going to make sure she read the signs and gave it; anything to keep her appeased; anything to make sure she didn't earn this woman's wrath; anything to keep herself alive another day ...

The Queen smirked, all pretenses at trying to appear tender gone. She leaned forward, making Sable press back against the wall impossibly further.

"Smart girl," the Queen approved, speaking in a mocking whisper, "You'll live longer that way."

Sable certainly hoped so ...

* * *

AN:

Black Queen: Are you scared of me?

Sable: Madam, I am absolutely terrified of you.

Black Queen: Aren't you clever.